


do i wanna know? (sad to see you go)

by nightsickness



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Crying, Daddy Issues, Fluffy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:53:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsickness/pseuds/nightsickness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In hindsight, I probably should have known the time he came to my house with a black eye looking like he was about to break down uncontrollably on my doorstep. *ONE-SHOT COMPLETED*</p>
            </blockquote>





	do i wanna know? (sad to see you go)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys. I'm not really sure if I like this so much, considering it was completed at approximately eleven at night, but I really wanted to do a one-shot dealing with Ryan's father being sort of abusive. I know he died in 2006, and this isn't really set in 2006 considering Jon's in the band in this, but I hope it's okay that I changed some tiny details! I hope you all enjoy it and please let me know how it went!

In hindsight, I probably should have known the time he came to my house with a black eye looking like he was about to break down uncontrollably on my doorstep. Maybe I should have realized that there's a reason he's not exactly a fan of physical contact - he always either flinches or lets his arms go limp whenever I want to cuddle or give him a hug. I should have seen the way he gets whenever someone starts talking about their family; how he immediately goes into a shell - lifeless eyes and all. It freaked me out.

Maybe I should have realized that Ryan Ross wasn't a normal person.

The first time I suspected something was off about Ryan was early into our friendship, back when Brent was still in the band. He wore a turtleneck to practice one day, despite the fact that it was almost eighty degrees outside. I didn't ask about it, because I figured it didn't matter so much. I've never been the kind of person to ask someone a question just for the hell of it. I like to keep my conversations interesting.

The second time - and this time, I  _knew_ something was up with Ryan - he was at my house at three in the morning, with no visible injuries on him, but he was shaking badly and he had this terrified look in his eyes - the kind of look that only happens when you've just witnessed someone getting shot, or something.

I moved out of the way to let him come inside and speed-walked into the kitchen to get him a glass of water. He came trudging in slowly after me, and gulped the whole glass down without stopping to breathe. I watched him as he did so, watched his Adam's apple go up and down, up and down, and I thought,  _Jesus, Ryan._

"Do you want to talk about it?" I remember asking carefully. He looked at me with an expressionless stare - one I'd gotten several times, but it just looked so _different_ this time.

"Do you really wanna know?" He asked me calmly, lazily, almost dead like, and held out the glass to me. I put it in the sink.

"Why wouldn't I, Ryan," I deadpanned. "What the hell is going on with you? You can't just show up at my house  _in the middle of the night_  with zero explanation!I thought you were dying or something, the way you were acting!"

Ryan wasn't so calm anymore. His brow was furrowed and he had a furious look on his face.

"Well, I'm sorry that I thought we were friends. Bandmates are _supposed_ to do these things for each other, you know!" He stopped talking and looked at me. I stared back. He sighed. "Forget it. You're still new. I - I can't expect you to understand."

" _New?!_  And - understand  _what?_ " I shouted. "I am  _so_ out of the loop right now." _  
_

"Just - thanks for the water. And for letting me in. I won't make the same mistake, 'kay?" He said as a form of conclusion to our conversation, and he found his way out the door. I sat at the kitchen table, eyes boring into the spot on the ground he was standing at just seconds ago.

Ryan didn't talk to me for three days, seven hours, and 42 minutes. The only reason he  _did_ talk to me then was because he needed his pen and it was right next to me. I handed it to him wordlessly and continued fiddling with my guitar.

Six days later, he sat next to me at band practice. I knew that he'd forgiven me - for what, I wasn't exactly sure, but he had _finally_ forgiven me - and everything would go back to normal. I rested my head on his shoulder and waited for him to tense up like he always did when I touched him, but this time, he didn't. I took this as a good omen.

One day, Ryan didn't show up to practice. I didn't think of it to be anything serious, because we were used to having people missing. Brent used to miss all the time, I'd missed once or twice because of work, Spencer's missed because of family things, Jon missed sometimes because he had two younger brothers and a younger sister that he had to help out his parents with, and Ryan... well, actually, Ryan had never missed. Not once. So maybe I _should have_ thought it was a little weird.

I didn't, though. Not until Spencer said something.

"Twenty minutes since practice started, where is that fucker..." He muttered as he searched through the contacts in his phone. He didn't really look angry, I remember noticing. He looked sort of...  _anxious_ , actually. Like he was worried.

"Ryan?" Spencer spoke into the phone after it rang a couple of times. He had it on speaker phone.

"I'm fine," Ryan said in an exasperated tone, almost like he was _used_ to Spencer worrying about him. What the hell was happening. I frowned and stood up from the piano chair I was sitting at, walking closer to Spencer and Jon.

"Then why aren't you here," Spencer deadpanned.

"I'm fine," Ryan repeated, slightly grunting. "Just in pain."

"Why is he in pain?" I whispered. Spencer gave me a look but didn't say anything, and he turned back to the phone conversation.

"Feel better, buddy. Text me when you can." Spencer hung up and took a deep breath.

"What's going on?" I asked. I could feel myself pale. _Is Ryan okay? Why is he in pain? What's happening? Why are you two just_ sitting _there?_ Questions were swarming in my head and I couldn't concentrate on just one of them at a time. I looked over at Jon. My mouth was dry.

"What's wrong with Ryan?" I asked again, hearing my voice rising.

"Brendon, calm down, 'r else we won't tell you," Spencer warned, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Fine, fine." I sat down at the nearest stool I could find and looked up at the drummer.

"Ryan... you know that Ryan's mom left him a while back," Spencer said. I nodded. "Okay. Well, his dad - he's just a little - and Ryan... yeah." I winced at how terrible Spencer was at explaining things.

"Ryan's dad is just a little what?" I asked.

"He's abusive, Bren," Jon told me. Jon, always so gentle, yet these words sort of killed me. I frowned and opened my mouth to say,  _No, you're wrong, Ryan - Ryan wouldn't let anyone do that to him, Ryan wouldn't stay with him if he hit him... Ryan..._ But no words came out.

"But," I finally uttered, sounding a little strangled.

"I know," Spencer said, pulling me into a hug.

"Where does Ryan live?" I asked. Jon gave me a doubtful look. "Brendon, I know what you're thinking, I've been there, okay, you're not going to go beat his father up, okay? First of all, you're puny, and if Ryan can't take his father," I winced, "then you sure as hell won't be able to. Second of all, you could get arrested for assaulting someone, and then we won't have a singer."

"Wha - Ryan's _dad_ could get arrested for assaulting him!" I screamed. "And I am  _not_ that small. I could probably take him, alright? I bet Ryan's just too scared to do anything. He doesn't want to lose his dad, too, I guess. But I'm not afraid of taking the bitch down! No one messes with Ryan Ross and gets away with it, okay? Wait. How - how long have you two known?"

"I've known since," Spencer put a hand to his chest, "like, third grade, I guess, when I first met Ryan. But I didn't find out right away. And, Jon, I think he's known for a couple of months."

I gaped at them. "Why didn't I know?" I asked, more upset than anything. Did they not trust me?

"Ry didn't want you to know," Jon said.

"Why not."

"You'll have to ask him."

"I will," I said.

"Uh, not today, you won't. We have to get some work done. Ryan will be back tomorrow, but until then, we need to work on harmonizing you two," Spencer pointed to Jon and me, and so we got to work, because when Spencer Smith tells you to do something, you do it always.

The next day, Ryan was back. I walked right up to him and shoved him, but when I noticed the confused and hurt expression on his face, I pulled him into a hug, not caring that this was one of his biggest pet-peeves. I stayed attached to him until he - finally - hugged me back. Progress.

"You fucking bitch," I said when we let go. "Why didn't you tell me that your dad's a fucking dickface?"

Ryan winced. "Sorry."

"I don't care, I don't care, are you okay?" I asked, examining his face to find that it was void of any bruises or scratches. His face was flawless as usual.

"I'm okay," he assured me, "he just hit me in the chest pretty hard. I was coughing up blood for a little bit, but I was fine after that, I promise."

Before I had enough time to comprehend what was going on, I was pushing his face into mine and kissing him. It wasn't a great kiss, lasting only about five seconds, but, I mean, I was kissing Ryan Ross, so no fucking complaints here.

He pulled back and looked at me, squinting his eyes in confusion, and I think I saw a little bit of awe in there too.

I didn't apologize. Just stared at him until I saw what seemed like a shadow of a smile.

"Oh," he said, his smile widening. I smiled back, because, _really_ , if Ryan Ross is smiling at you, you can't not return it.

"I... uh, do you want to do something with me sometime?" I squeaked.

Ryan's smile got just a little bit wider. "Duh," he shoved me gently.


End file.
